


Only You

by Raindropblue



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Cinnamon Roll Newt Scamander, M/M, Original Percival Graves is a Softie, Percival has never been so disappointed in himself, Percival lets Newt get away with far too much, Pining Original Percival Graves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-10
Updated: 2019-12-10
Packaged: 2021-02-01 05:06:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21389950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raindropblue/pseuds/Raindropblue
Summary: Percival Graves had met a great many people over the course of his life. First as a son of the Graves family, then as a promising student at Ilvermony, and now the Director of Magical Security and Head of Magical Law Enforcement at MACUSA.Percival could honestly say he had had the honor of meeting many remarkable people, but none like Newt Scamander. None who seemed to stick with him no matter what he did, or who he was with. There was no one quite like the lovely Mr.Scamander.
Relationships: Original Percival Graves/Newt Scamander
Comments: 7
Kudos: 76





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I love this ship so much I'm already crying and I haven't even started writing yet.

Percival Graves was an incredibly organized individual, as one could tell if they were to just look into his office. The desk the Director sat behind was as neatly organized as the man himself, not a paper out of place, quills placed neatly at one corner, Percival's constant companion; his coffee mug sitting faithfully at the other corner. Messenger paper rats directed to land behind him directly into the in pile of messages where they scuttled around waiting to be addressed by the man.

The bookshelf across from him organized not only alphabetically but also by topic. All the books he needed to consult regarding his work along the top three shelves, and personal collection along the bottom although those also were related to his work. The only one out of place was his well loved copy of Newt Scamander's debut book about magical creatures, a space kept empty next to it in wait for the next installment the magizoologist was currently working on. The first book had been very well received and so Newt had decided to write books dedicated to each family of creatures in order to be able to go into much more detail. The niffler of course got his own installment considering according to Mr.Scamander interactions between wizardkind and nifflers were far too common for the creatures to be so misunderstood, really Percival just thought the niffler was Newt's favourite. 

There was already a correspondence between the magizoologist and the great Albus Dumbledore to purchase copies of these books for the Hogwarts library and it made Percival wonder whether a man of such immense power could be as helpless in the face of Newt's charms as the Director found himself to be. Or perhaps he was the only sucker and Albus Dumbledore truly had an interest in teaching young wizards and witches about the importance of understanding and respecting magical creatures. Wizards and witches of that age couldn't even respect one another if his memory served him correct from his Ilvermony days, Percival thought it to be expecting too much from them to ask them to understand and respect a different species altogether. 

Percival had always thought those with magical prowess more than the average wizard or witch needed to be in occupations that allowed them to put that magic to use. Overly powerful wizards and witches that didn't, often turned dark, drunk on their own power, or went a little kooky, their power making them incapable of relating to other wizards and witches causing for them to become whimsical and eccentric. Percival Graves had only met the man once, it had been right after the war and he had seen potential in Albus Dumbledore of going both ways. Although his recent behavior and Newt's utmost faith in him would lead Percival to believe he was more on the harmless but strange end of the spectrum. Which was fine by Percival considering they already had one immensely powerful dark wizard on their hands, and apparently Percival quite liked strange people. 

As though having been summoned by the very thought of queerness Newt Scamander appeared at Percival's door, knocking against the hard surface and wincing immediately at the loudness as though apologetic for making any sound at all. 

Percival looked at the door expectantly, however as usual the magizoologist was looking anywhere but at Percival, this time staring straight ahead and out the window of Percival's office, not seeing the look that was always perceived as an invitation by his aurors. 

"Come in Mr.Scamander." The Director called, pressing his lips together briefly in regret of how deep his voice was as the magizoologist hunched in on himself, scuttling in, hovering next to one of the chairs across from Percival. Percival used to quite like how deep his voice naturally was, it sounded fitting of a Director of Magical Security, but he feared it unsettled Newt Scamander, just one of the many differences between them. Percival's eyes roamed down the man, wondering how he managed to keep that blue coat on at all times inside MACUSA. They had heating charms, how was it that he didn't get warm enough to ever take it off? Perhaps the man just ran cold, although Percival recalled his skin being quite pleasantly warm from that one time Mr.Scamander had shook his hand. 

The coat was worn open though, letting Percival see that the wizard had gotten a new pair of trousers, in the latest casual slacks style, a light grey colour, and made of a soft material that clung to his legs in a manner that was frankly a little obscene. Perhaps Mr.Scamander wore his coat all the time to hide his inappropriate taste in trousers. It would be terribly rude to walk around with legs so long and toned from all the physical labor he put into caring for his creatures on display all the time. 

Percival finally glanced up at the other man's face, not quite making it to his eyes as his gaze fell on the lips that looked so smooth and puffy at the moment, clearly he had just had his morning tea, never having the patience to wait for it to cool, he always burnt himself on the hot tea making his lips look a darker shade of pink than usual and almost swollen. The edge of said mouth twitched and Percival finally noticed the discomfort the man was experiencing, hovering next to a chair that way, and put an end to his misery. Gesturing for him to sit, Percival felt his own ears burn as he realized how long he had spent simply staring at the man. Although he was the Director of Magical Security, so it was arguably part of his job to observe, but perhaps in a less blatant way would be preferable. 

"How can I help you Mr.Scamander?" The Director asked, setting the quill he had been using back in its rightful place at the corner of his desk, and folding his hands neatly on top of the report he had been looking over. Lately these reports were all the field action Percival got. As Director he couldn't often explain involving himself in the auror's work, only particularly large cases could afford his involvement, otherwise he had to stay put in MACUSA and do what felt like glorified desk work. 

"Mr.Graves I wanted to speak to you regarding the case involving the poachers. I know the aurors are planning to raid their hideout tomorrow and I would like to be given permission to take the demiguise they have been keeping under my care." The magizoologist said, voice clear as a bell and certain although Percival could see that under his curly red fringe Newt's eyes were focused on the top button of his vest. The green eyes glanced up to look at Percival only briefly as he wasn't immediately graced with a response. 

On one hand Percival couldn't help but agree with the magizoologist, the demiguise would need special care, care that would very well be provided by Newt in his case, and Percival knew Newt had a demiguise in his care who would help the others feel more comfortable. But Percival also knew that the demiguise were evidence, they would be used to help prove that the poachers had indeed been part of the illegal potion epidemic so strongly affecting the witches and wizards of New York. The potion was very illegal but said to help with anxiety and depression. A distraction from the stresses of daily life but was also a powerful hallucinogenic and was causing for many of its users to attack those around them unprompted. 

"I won't ask how you came to know about that raid Mr.Scamander, however you know those demiguise are evidence don't you? The aurors need them to build their case and prove those poachers are involved in the sale and brewing of the drug Laviosa?" Percival asked the wizard, regretting to have to do so. 

"They're creatures, they are not inanimate objects and cannot be treated as evidence." Newt responded, his voice level but the tensing of his jaw giving away his frustration. Percival opened his mouth to respond but was unable to get a word in as Newt continued. 

"They will most likely be hurt and none of your aurors are capable of treating injured demiguise, they are barely capable of keeping their evidence in order let alone gaining the trust of mistreated creatures and then knowing how to help them. The poachers have been using parts of the demiguise in the potions, and they will need to be regrown if the demiguise are ever to lead healthy pain-free lives again, let alone be re-introduced into their natural habitat. But that probably doesn't matter because a good report is more important than a living being." Newt huffed out, the very tip of his nose turning red in anger, making it seem like the freckles on it disappeared amidst the rosy colour. A moment of silence passed and a blush of embarrassment began to spread on Newt's cheeks. His eyes darting from left to right quickly as he parted his lips and then shut them again. Indecisive between apologizing for being rude and not wanting to take back what he had said. 

"What alerted you to the incompetence of my aurors Mr.Scamander?" Percival asked calmly making the magizoologist furrow his elegantly thin brows in confusion.

"I-um what?" Newt asked ineloquently, tilting his head to the side slightly, reminding Percival so of the krup he had had growing up. The side of his mouth twitched but he managed to keep a straight face. 

"You haven't even had a chance to read their reports and yet you are so certain of the limitations to their capabilities. Frankly I find your observation skills to be very impressive." Percival drawled out. Newt's cheeks turned a deeper pink as he sputtered trying to find the words to explain himself. 

"I-I hadn't meant it like that. They're all very capable aurors, I was more referring to how generally wizards and witches are unaware of how to care for magical creatures and got a little carried away." Newt admitted. 

"So you're referring to the general incompetence of all wizardkind?" Percival asked, never having related to the magizoologist more than he did in that moment. 

"I-you're twisting my words. My intention was only to gain permission to keep the demiguise in my care. They'll be hurt, and I have potions in my case to help replenish the nutrients they might be missing the body parts those poachers would have cruelly used in their brewing. The creatures will need immediate attention, please Mr.Graves." Newt said, spitting out the word poachers the way overly dramatic actors said bastard in stage plays. His voice softening unintentionally alluringly on the plea. 

"I will allow it only this time Mr.Scamander. After this I expect you to write up a request to Madame President to give you permission to care for any magical creatures involved in the auror's cases. There is not enough time so I will authorize your request this once." The Director said, dread filling him as he thought of the backlash he would face from the aurors on the case for doing so and the terribly knowing look Madame President would give him when she heard the news. The dread transforming into a warm feeling as Newt peeked up from under his fringe, lips quirking into a small triumphant grin as he registered the words. How eyes so pale a green could sparkle like that was beyond Percival, he had always found very light coloured eyes a bit creepy, that is until he had seen those of the wizard that sat before him. But then Newt did seem to be an exception to Percival's every rule.

"Thank you Mr.Graves." The magizoologist gushed, looking briefly at his pocket making Percival's barely there smile vanish into a bemused look upon realizing Newt's beloved bowtruckle had had a front row seat to their conversation. 

"Mr.Scamander I'm sure you're not roaming around MACUSA with magical creatures on your person now are you? Because that would be absolutely absurd." The Director commented making the magizoologist's big eyes widen comically. 

"No, of course not Mr.Graves." He answered immediately, voice alarmingly level for the mooncalf caught under a lumos expression on his face. His hand going near his breast pocket before he seemed to think better of it and rested it on the arm of the chair instead, gripping it so tightly that his knuckles started turning white before he was up in a flash, already moving towards the door on long legs that seemed to be carrying him away before he could even fully decide on his escape. 

"Well I'll be on my way then, wouldn't want to take up any more of your time Director." Newt said, almost at the door when the deep voice had him halting in his tracks. 

"Mr.Scamander since you are not allowing my aurors to take possession of the demiguise they find, someone will have to accompany you in your case to document the injuries sustained by the creatures. A list of their injuries will be needed as evidence of the ingredients used in the brewing of the potions by the poachers." 

"Yes of course, I'll have Ti-I mean Auror Goldstein accompany me while I treat the creatures." 

"Auror Goldstein is not one of the aurors on that case Mr.Scamander, she will not know what to look for. And you have previously stated your opinion on the competence of my aurors, so I myself will be accompanying you to ensure the nature of the injuries is documented correctly unless you also have doubts in my abilities that is." Percival said, face somber but dark eyes twinkling with amusement. Amusement that Newt picked up on after a quick glance up to his face as he tried to decide on how to decline his help without making it seem as though he truly thought the Director too was incompetent. 

"That's not necessary Mr.Graves, you're surely very busy. I could create a list for you, or any of the aurors on the case should be able to do so just fine." Newt responded, biting into his bottom lip, hoping fervently Mr.Graves didn't take that as him calling the Director an idiot. He really thought the Director to be a very capable man, and was often impressed with the way he managed to juggle his numerous responsibilities alongside providing more support to the auror department than his job description entailed. All with only a minor unhealthy addiction to coffee to help him get through it. 

He couldn't help but feel a bit nervous around the director though. Usually people who were so well put together and for lack of a better description, by the book, disliked Newt or simply avoided him if they feared or respected his war hero of a brother too much to outwardly dislike his little brother. But Percival was unlike any other serious official he had ever met, not only did he seem to tolerate Newt just fine, Newt got the impression that he was quite amused by him and not in a condescending manner, but something that made it seem as though he enjoyed his company. It was beyond Newt's understanding, as was the nervousness he felt when the Director focused on him so intently. Or perhaps that was just a mix of his impeccable manners and intense eyes. He had a predator's gaze,. Something that locked onto you and could be felt down to your very core, and Newt had never had the right reaction to predators if the recovering Nundu that was currently residing in his case amongst other predatory creatures were any indication. 

"I'm putting my neck on the line for you here Mr.Scamander. As the head of MACUSA's Department of Magical Law Enforcement I have to ensure the rules are upheld, and I'm giving you permission to break a very important one; tampering with evidence." Newt made to interrupt there but was silenced as the Director held up a hand to stop him. 

"I'm aware of how you feel about us calling creatures evidence and it is why I am allowing you to take the creatures under your care. But I think we all know how distracted you get while helping a creature, and I cannot in good faith trust you to do an auror's job as you do that of a magizoologist's. If one of the aurors makes even a minor error in taking down what has been done to the demiguise by the poachers, it is I that will have to answer to Madame President and the concerned witches and wizards of New York as to why the case against the brewers isn't compelling enough to get them put away for good. So when I say I will be accompanying you, I assure you that is completely non-negotiable. I can however reassure you that I will stay out of your way as you are the expert when it comes to magical creatures." Percival said, Newt looking more like a scolded school child than anyone over the age of majority had the right to. The look completed by the hunched shoulders, downcast eyes and an expression too somber to fit the lovely face it was on. 

"Yes Mr.Graves." Newt turned away, reaching for the door handle when once again he was stopped by the Director. 

"You make a very convincing case Mr.Scamander, I am not known to be easily persuaded." The Director complimented, feeling accomplished when the scolded expression gave way to a mischievous little quirk of the lips that suited Mr.Scamander far more in Percival's opinion. 

"I wouldn't call you terribly difficult either Mr.Graves." Newt said before he was out the door leaving Percival sitting there alone in his office with a frown, muttering to himself "did he just call me easy?"


	2. Chapter 2

Percival was an incredibly patient man, in a position like his, one had to learn to be patient, and patience was a virtue that had been highly valued in his home as he grew up. But as Percival waited for the aurors to send a patronus telling him the raid was successful, he couldn't help but pace around his room, occasionally sipping on the coffee that sloshed around in the mug held tightly in his hand. The bitter liquid doing little to soothe him. 

Percival couldn't tell if he was nervous or excited. He had heard about the way Newt worked, could see his passion in the words the man spoke and had written in the book Percival had read a few too many times, but he had never had the pleasure of seeing the magizoologist at work. He had also never had the opportunity to be very close to creatures, and having read so much about them Percival was a little excited to finally meet some, even if the circumstances would be less than ideal, although there was no doubt that Newt would fix them right up. 

At last Auror Hames' wolf patronus came trotting up to Percival, stopping by his hip, and Percival didn't even take the time to fully listen to the message before he was rushing out of his office, down the hall to the elevators, the wolf at his heels as he hurried out of MACUSA before apparating to the poacher's hideout. He landed steadily on his feet, starting to walk into the warehouse immediately. Apparating was one of the things Percival was exceptionally skilled at, it had taken practice but now apparating was nearly as second nature to him as walking. 

The first thing the Director noticed were the five witches and wizards on their knees with their hands behind their backs, he didn't bother with them but simply nodded to his aurors and walked off in search of a blue coat. Finding the wizard he was looking for at the very far end of the warehouse, accompanied by an auror speaking softly to empty cages. Percival knew though that the demiguise were in there, but too scared to allow themselves to be seen it seemed. 

Percival walked closer, noticing the irritated side glance Newt sent to the Auror hovering over his shoulder, exuding far too much nervous energy to be so close to magical creatures. 

"Auror Farrison, I've got it from here, you may go help the others sweep the scene." Percival said, the Auror looking relieved to be able to get away from there, probably having picked up on the magizoologist's irritation. Newt tensed slightly at the sound of that deep voice, but when the Director made no move to approach him he relaxed, going back to talking gently at the creatures. Percival watched leaned back against the wall a safe distance away, casting a quick auditory spell so that he would be able to hear what the magizoologist was saying. Unable to keep from smiling as he heard the man speaking badly of the poachers as though gossiping with the demiguise. Promising that he was nothing like them, and just wished to help. Telling them about Dougal, the demiguise in his case and how well they got along. How upset Dougal had been upon hearing about those poachers. 

It was when he called the poachers galleon-loving twats that the demiguise finally materialized, looking at Newt with large golden eyes that had the Director's heart melting slightly even though he would never admit that to anyone. Newt however didn't seem to share that sentiment and cooed at them outwardly, whispering about how beautiful each and every one of them was as he opened up his case, before reaching up to his head and allowing his bowtruckle to crawl onto his hand, setting him onto the cages to unlock them as bowtruckles could so easily do. 

Newt ushered the demiguise into his case, his soft expression twisting into sorrow, eyes reddening immediately as he noticed the way the creatures were limping, a trail of silver left on the floor as they limped to the case. Newt muttering gentle reassurances to each one as they hopped in, helping his bowtruckle into his coat pocket, the creature chattering madly at Newt as the last of the demiguise disappeared into the case. 

"I know Pickett, they'll suffer for what they've done." Newt said, looking straight at the Director as he spoke, an expression of such determination on his face, Percival worried for a moment that Newt would go attack the poachers, but he did no such thing. He simply held stared at the Director for the longest he ever had, pleading with angry red-rimmed eyes for Percival to ensure they would be punished for their misdeeds. Percival had only ever seen such expressions from the parents of wounded or murdered children, and despite the years that had passed the look had never lessened in impact. The Director nodded imperceptibly and satisfied Newt finally broke the stare, Percival drawing in a deep breath, having been holding his breath with those fierce green eyes on him. 

"Apparate us to MACUSA Director." Newt said, offering an arm, and Percival strode forward, grasping onto the man's lean arm firmly before apparating them to outside MACUSA. They walked in, Newt right behind the Director, the doorman calling out a greeting to both receiving only a terse nod in return from both wizards. The elf in the elevator seemed most disturbed by Newt's silence, glancing at him before turning to the Director with an accusatory glare, clearly having assumed Newt's bad mood was Percival's fault, and the wizard ignored the look, nodding in gratitude as he stepped out of the elevator. Newt mumbled a quiet "thank you" as they headed to Percival's office, the Director closing the door behind them so that no one would disturb them.

Newt immediately set the case onto the floor and opened it up, gesturing for the Director to follow him as he stepped into the case, disappearing within its depths as Percival had seen him do before, but for once he got to follow him in. 

Percival knew what the case contained but seeing the spell work in person had the Director speechless. He had seen a lot of impressive magic in his time, he himself had mastered wandless non-verbal magic before even gaining the post of Director, and yet Percival knew he had never seen anything like this. Growing up in a wizarding family Percival was quite used to extension charms, he himself found them to be very useful and always encouraged his aurors to use them, but Newt's case wasn't created using just extension charms. Newt had managed to have many different ecosystems, temperatures and terrains all existing just inches from one another, one leading so flawlessly to the next. 

Had the circumstances not been so unfortunate Percival surely would have said something, Newt always gave him the impression of a wizard who didn't get nearly enough appreciation as he deserved. But given the terrible timing, Percival bit his tongue and trailed after the magizoologist until they made it to the habitat of the demiguise. 

A demiguise that looked older than the ones they had seen materialized as Newt approached, going to him immediately, taking him by the hand and leading him further in. He stopped at a far corner of the habitat, and glanced up at Newt silently with his enchanting golden eyes. 

"You'll need to come a little closer Director." Newt said, and only then did Percival notice he had been hovering just outside the habitat, having been feeling like an invader in the perfect chaotic world Newt had created. Never had Percival felt like he belonged somewhere less, he was scared he would disturb the careful balance of the place. 

He followed Newt's orders dutifully regardless. Getting out a notepad and enchanted quill from the pocket of his coat as he began to write down all the injuries he could see on the demiguise. 

It was clear the poachers had been cutting them to bleed them, their ankles seemed to be missing, along with parts of their tiny ears. The creatures flinched terribly as Newt examined them. 

"Incisions have been made along their belly here, I'll have to run some diagnostic spells to be sure but from the positioning it seems they were after their gallbladder. I'm sure you've noticed that they've bled them and used their ankles and parts of their ears, there seems to be nothing else they used of the demiguise. They have starved them though terribly. Kept them locked up in those tiny cages where they can't even move an inch just to be able to have easy access to them." Newt cast the diagnostic spells as he spoke, the non-verbal magic extremely impressive. It was terribly difficult to do non-verbal magic, and that too while speaking with someone, Percival had only ever seen healers do it. 

"How much blood do you think they've taken?" Percival asked. 

"It's difficult to say exactly given how malnourished they are, but I would say about a pint a day from each. Far too much for a creature their size, especially since they couldn't be bothered to feed them." Newt answered. 

"And the gallbladder, why would they remove that? It's not part of the potion?" The Director asked.

"There are rumours that the gallbladders of demiguise can increase the potency of potions with psychological uses. Perhaps for the customers that were willing to pay for stronger doses." Newt spared a brief glance for Percival, seeing the other wizard's brow furrowed deeply, not just in concentration as he had assumed the man to be, but he looked thoroughly perturbed. 

"You're used to this." Percival said suddenly, sounding closer than he had been just moments ago when Newt had glanced back at him. Newt startled slightly, murmuring apologies to the demiguise whose foot he had been examining as the creature flinched at the sudden movement. 

"I've had the extreme displeasure of running into many poachers and traffickers. Somehow the wizards and witches who purchase these creatures simply to own them are almost always guaranteed to treat them the worst. They purchase them thinking they'll have a pretty fascinating thing to lock up in a cage and show others, and are infuriated when the creatures try to rebel." 

"Can you take away their pain?" Percival asked and Newt looked back at him, staring at his chest a moment before gathering the courage to peer up into his eyes from under his fringe, before giving a small nod. 

"I could, but there's really only so much of our magic a magical creature can tolerate. If I take their pain away as well as give them the potions and salves they'll need to heal, it's possible their bodies won't take well to it, and try to reject the magic. They'll either faint from the exertion or throw up, and that'll only make them worse." Newt explained.

"The healing potion they need is numbing to some extent, so they won't feel the full brunt of the terrible regrowth process. Something I expect you are all too familiar with Director."

"I've spent more nights in St Ingus than I would have thought I would when I was still a boy at Ilvermony." The Director admitted. 

Percival watched in silence as Newt applied a chunky thick purple salve to the creatures ankles, diluting it slightly with a watery green substance before applying it to their ears, and stomach. Gently coaxing them into drinking a light green potion that was quite like the colour of the magizoologist's eyes, but lacked the shine. The first demiguise gagged on it terribly, spitting it back out directly onto Newt who didn't seem to care at all while Percival was positively wide eyed. 

"Now you really need to drink this potion if you want to get better love. It's the blood replenisher in it that tastes so vile, but if you don't have this then you'll be very weak. We don't want that, so please drink up." Newt cooed at the demiguise, the creature stubbornly keeping its mouth closed. Percival wandlessly cast a cleaning charm on Newt who still seemed quite unbothered by the spit-up. Newt nodded distractedly to show his gratitude, clearly not having cared about it.

"How about this, you drink this, and I promise first thing tomorrow I will go out and buy you Egyptian Sandberries." The magizoologist bargained, the creature perked up at the name of the treat, eyeing the potion for a moment before reaching out and wrapping a hand around the glass bottle. Bringing it to its' mouth the demiguise gulped down the entire thing, the whites of its' eyes reddening at the foul potion making Percival wince, all too familiar with vile potions. 

"Now that's a good girl." Newt praised, grinning fondly at the creature before raising his brow at the others, who seemed to catch on that they could get in on that deal and drank down the potion easy enough.

Newt talked soothingly to the creatures, walking them through the plan for their recovery as they all settled down to go to sleep, staying within arm's reach of one another, but seeming content to have a bit of their own space after being cooped up in those tiny cages. Their eyes beginning to fall shut as Newt began to get to the physiotherapy part of recovering their ankles, and he fondly watched them for a moment, his demiguise cracking his eyes open to give Newt one last meaningful look before allowing himself to drift off. 

Newt cocked his head to the side as he passed the Director, and Percival took it as a gesture to follow him out. Both wizards being as quiet as possible, Percival couldn't help but allow himself to take a glance around, trying to shut down the side of him that was counting up how many violations were visible just in this part of the case, and instead appreciate his surroundings. Although he filed the violations away for later, the Director could tell there were some creatures Newt hadn't exactly disclosed at the border. And so preoccupied was he in his sightseeing and felony counting, that he completely didn't notice the creature that had approached the two wizards until it had planted itself firmly between Newt and him. 

There were very few things that Percival was afraid of. Being an auror for so long and then a Director of Magical Security meant there were very few fear-inducing things that Percival hadn't encountered and survived, now only to die like this. Die the death he deserved being so infatuated with the kind of absolute lunatic that would carry around a fully grown Nundu in his case. Percival felt like he couldn't breathe, and hoped very fervently that the Nundu wasn't feeling like letting out a few deep breaths because if he did then Newt would have a very illegal creature and a dead Director in his case. 

"He's not a threat Clemmy, just here to do some work, think of him as a friend." Newt called to the Nundu, who Percival could only stare at wondering if the flaring of its' gigantic nostrils was a good or bad thing. Did that mean he was listening or inhaling deeply to be able to let out a bigger deadly exhale? Percival's heart pounded so hard in his chest he was afraid it would pop out and admit to having a thing for the resident Nundu-keeping lunatic. 

"Back away from the Director please." Newt said, sounding as though he was talking to a troublesome toddler and not a poison breathing giant creature. 

"Clementine." He said, sounding very stern now, and Percival felt obliged to apologize to the Nundu and explain he was in no way on the side of the wizard barking orders at the giant feline, but before he could form the words, the cat had backed off. Nuzzling its' gigantic head against the suddenly very breakable and fragile looking magizoologist who giggled breathily and asked the nundu to 'stop it' as though that weren't a nundu using him as a teddy bear but a wand-permit office receptionist flirting with him. 

"Back to your habitat now please." Newt said, turning to Percival as the gigantic creature bounded away, not without giving him one last playful nudge that nearly tipped the slight wizard over. 

"Beautiful isn't she?" Newt asked and the Director stared at him for a moment in silence, expecting him to say something along the lines of an explanation or an apology for shaving twenty years off Percival's life expectancy, but when neither came Percival simply nodded his head shakily. 

"Stunning." 

"I think I have what I need Mr.Scamander, if you could let me know what exactly the poachers have removed from the demiguise through the incisions along their stomachs by tomorrow morning, that would be great." Percival said as they reached the shack which for Newt was a workplace, but for a not quite recovered from having a Nundu in his face Percival, it was a sanctuary. 

"Yes Mr.Graves." The magizoologist mumbled, the brief cheerfulness from being used as a Nundu's toy disappearing as the wizard became glum again. That look simply didn't suit the magizoologist, his eyes were too bright to be filled with such sadness, lips too lovely to be turned down at the corners that way. But Percival was not a close acquaintance of Mr.Scamander's and so he couldn't do anything but bid the man goodnight as they made it out of the case.

The magizoologist was almost to the door, steps lacking the hurried restlessness of an explorer the wizard always moved with, shoulders not hunched to contain himself, but drooped in sadness when Percival, a man who prided himself on his control called out to the wizard. Not even sure what he was going to say until his frantic eyes landed on the bottle of firewhisky an official from Spain had sent him. A thanks for keeping an eye on his daughter while she was in New York. 

"Would you like to join me for a drink?" He asked when Newt turned around to look at him again, tops of his ears burning as he realized how much that sounded as though he was asking the magizoologist on a date. Percival was fairly sure he had overheard Abernathy ask the younger Ms.Goldstein out in the same manner just a few days prior. Obviously getting rejected as such inappropriate advances in the workplace should. 

"I mean I usually go for a drink after difficult cases, and this was quite difficult for you especially, so you could join me if you'd like."

"I'd have made the same proposition to any of my aurors." The Director clarified, his insides churning at how idiotic he sounded, wondering for a moment if he would get fired if he obliviated the other wizard, perhaps when Madame President heard what an ass he had made of himself, she would sympathize. 

"Yes." Newt answered just as Percival's hands began to twitch terribly to cast a quick obliviate. The response had the urge dying down very quickly. 

"Great, you can have a seat." Percival said, his insides churning for many different reasons now. The urge to expel some energy so dire Percival wandlessly transformed the chairs before his desk to two plush leather armchairs simply as a way to get some of the nervous energy out. 

Transforming two paperclips into whisky glasses, he summoned the bottle to his desk and had it pour itself into the two glasses as he sat down in the armchair across the one Newt had taken. The magizoologist gingerly placed his case down next to his feet, fingers fiddling with the latches briefly. 

Percival grabbed one of the floating glasses, bringing it to his mouth to take a well-needed gulp but stopping as Newt held his glass out, glancing up tentatively at the Director who quickly clanked his glass against the other man's. Probably with a bit more force than needed, but anything to get that look of uncertainty off of the magizoologist's face. Percival sulked into his drink as he realized if anyone were to ever hear of this entire encounter, they would never believe this was the same composed and collected Director they knew. 

Both wizards gulped down the contents of their glasses in one go, Percival raising a brow as the magizoologist displayed no reaction at the burn of the very expensive and old firewhisky.

Both men waited in stilted silence as their glasses were once again filled by the bottle that hovered between them. Percival thinking desperately of what to say, and Newt looking as though he wanted to drown himself in the bottle. 

It was only after Newt had drank down his second glass of whisky the same way the first finger the bottle had poured that he spoke. 

"Demiguise are very tactile creatures." The upset magizoologist said, and Percival watched him not dissimilar to the very way in which he had the Nundu. 

"You saw, didn't you, how they acted? They didn't touch me or Dougal. Not even one another. They were so scared for Merlin knows how long that they never even formed any bonds with one another. They probably just waited there in those cages for those barbarians to come and hurt them." The Director watched the man silently, slowly sipping on his whisky. Newt's eyes were red again and judging by how unaffected he was every time he poured back that sipping whisky, it was definitely not a sign of him becoming intoxicated. 

"Behaviors have to be learned, they were in separate cages, they probably never got the chance to interact with one another." The Director said. 

"Those poacher should be in cages." Newt muttered as the bottle poured him a third glass, this time pouring in two fingers of whisky for him, probably exasperated at having to do all this work after a year of just sitting in a cupboard in the Director's office. 

Newt took a big sip, cheeks bulging out making him resemble a niffler cub as he swallowed it down.

"Where they're headed is much worse than cages." Percival said, and Newt raised his glass slightly at that, throwing it back and draining it before the Director could decide whether he was supposed to clink to that. 

"Did you know demiguise are the slowest creatures to reach sexual maturity?" Newt asked, opening his mouth to continue on without even waiting for a response, looking positively baffled when the director answered with a quiet 'yes'. 

Newt stared at the man blinking his big eyes slowly, head tilted to the side in confusion. 

"I-I've read your book." The Director explained, ears reddening again as he hid behind the glass, not even sure why he was embarrassed at the admission. The book was available to all wizards and witches, admittedly it had not gotten much publicity, but considering MACUSA was clearly headed in the direction of providing creatures more protection as was evident by the hiring of a certain magizoologist, it only made sense for Percival to read the book. In fact it would have been ignorant of him not to. 

"You have?" Newt questioned, sounding bewildered by the very idea. 

"Yes, as Director of Magical Security I should have knowledge about all magical beings that reside in America, and your book very conveniently provides that information about many of them." The Director answered, for once the one between the pair to avoid making eye contact. 

"My editor made me cut out a lot of the information I wanted to put in there, she said people wouldn't bother reading it if it were too long." Newt spoke with a bit of a laugh in his voice but even Abernathy would have been able to tell that the stupid editor had saddened Newt immensely. 

"I would have read it had it been ten times as long as it is now." The Director said, the words out before he could even think about forming them. Ears burning when Newt looked up at him from beneath impossibly long lashes at the admission. 

"Really?" Newt asked softly making Percival gulp at having those green eyes trained so intently on him, and the gentle hopeful tone of that lovely voice. 

"Witches and wizards who can be bothered to pull their heads out of their read-ends and read a book about magical creatures would read it regardless of how long it is."

"I said the same thing, in a politer manner of course, but she was absolutely adamant. It took weeks of negotiation to convince her to publish it at the length it is now. Eventually I began to get scared they might just call it off entirely, so I gave in." Newt admitted, pretty mouth turning down at the corners and he took a sad sip of his whisky at the memory. 

"That's incredibly foolish of your publisher. That book would be just as much if not more intriguing had you included more information about the creatures." Percival said, clenching his teeth at thin air at the thought of some foolish witch refusing to publish all of Newt's hard work. The image of a crestfallen Newt at hearing they didn't want to publish all of his work appearing in his mind. Percival could have had more content written by him, more of his passionate words, his intriguing insights and of course more information on the creatures had those publishers not been such fools. 

"I'm working on writing books about each family of creatures now, there'll be the stuff I had to leave out in the first book, along with observations I've made since." Newt said, biting into that soft slightly wet-looking bottom lip in an awfully distracting way as he nervously glanced up at the Director, hoping he wasn't putting the wizard in an uncomfortable position. His mother had told him on his last visit that when he talked about his book too much he made others feel obliged to buy it. Theseus of course had said everyone should feel obliged to buy it to which Newt's mother had simply rolled her eyes. 

"Well I for one am very excited to read those, I personally would like to know more about the murtlap. You didn't get to cover them much in this one." Newt grinned brightly at that, and the Director felt all too encouraged by that look to continue. "I had no idea occamies were so affectionate, I was bitten by one my aunt had as a child and assumed they were very anti-social." 

"They are affectionate, but they learn to defend themselves early because their eggshells are so valuable. Once you earn their trust they'll be all over you. The baby occamies I have in my case will wrap themselves all around me any chance they get, it's terribly difficult to have to put them back in their nest. I know it's partially the body heat they crave, but they are capable of forming bonds." Newt said, cheeks flushing red as he spoke of the affection Percival was positive the occamies held for this wizard. No one in their right mind could not find this crazy wizard at least a little endearing.

"I'm sure they're capable of more than just using you as a heat source. I assume you've cared for them since they were born, what they feel for you is probably close to what one might feel for their mother."

"I do call myself their mummy." Newt admitted with a breathy laugh, before his eyes widened as though only then realizing what he had said. He looked up with wide fearful eyes at Percival who had admittedly been stunned at the confession but soon found that he found that ridiculously adorable, and it said something to how many refills the bottle had poured him that he voiced the thought. Ears burning so hotly in shame Percival wondered if he had lit them on fire with accidental magic. Percival's mother always said it was best to take the serving charm off the bottles or any member of the Graves family was sure to drink them-self to alcohol poisoning. Although Percival had always shown incredible restraint when it came to alcohol. It was all too easy to get so lost in Newt's words and fascinating reactions that he just mindlessly drank to have something to do with his hands other than reach out and feel whether the blush on the magizoologist's cheeks was as warm as it looked.

Said blush became much darker, spreading to include the tip of Newt's nose as the words the Director had said registered. The Director sputtered for a moment, not knowing how to take back what he had said, or turn it into something that seemed work-related and appropriate to say to a co-worker. Percival wished momentarily that MACUSA had their own Azkaban, so he could just go turn himself in for what he had said. Although he was fairly certain if he really wanted to, as he did now, he could probably apparate himself there, what was the loss of a limb or two due to splinching when you felt like you should never be seen in public ever again anyway. 

"Most people find me annoying." Newt said after a moment of silence in which he had been too surprised at the slight fluttering in his stomach to speak while the other wizard had been mortified and thinking of painful ways to punish himself. 

"Most people are fools." The Director muttered, still not quite over the mortification even though the lovely wizard seemed not to have taken badly to his ridiculous words.

"I am annoying, you may not think so but that's just because I'm careful around you. Well normally I am." Newt glanced at the glass in his hand with pursed lips. "Why would you feel the need to be careful around me?" "Tina said you don't tolerate any nonsense." 

"Mr.Scamander did you know I was head auror for six years? It is the head auror's responsibility to not only train but also watch over all new aurors. Trust me I am very tolerant of nonsense. Ms.Goldstein is a good auror, but she does have trouble following rules sometimes so she should know better than most than to say I'm intolerant. What I'm trying to say is don't go out of your way to be cautious around me." Percival said.

"I apologize for believing what others had to say about you, people can be unfair." No one had ever apologized to Percival for immediately misjudging him to be a strict official with little else to him, which admittedly sometimes Percival himself too believed. But it made a warm feeling blossom in his chest that had little to do with the firewhisky he had consumed to hear those words coming from the magizoologist. 

It also made him think of the vague memories he still held of the elder Scamander from the time when they had served together. His absolute favourite thing to talk about had been the very wizard seated before Percival now, so much so that although he was admired by many for his courage and the looks that were clearly gifted to all Scamanders, many wizards and witches would avoid him. Percival had liked the wizard though, liked him for his honesty, his clear bravery and even the slightly overbearing love he held for his little brother. People that held family so dear were people deserving of respect in Percival's eyes. 

He also did recall the anger that Theseus had worked himself up into a time or two talking about the way friends of the family and the other kids at Hogwarts would treat his little brother. Judging him for his different personality, compassion for magical creatures and discomfort around people that had developed due to that very reason. They found him peculiar and many had no qualms in voicing their opinion, treating him badly for it, and it was something that deeply bothered Theseus. Just listening to it had made Percival a little mad on this then mysterious little Newt's behalf. Of course Percival had found out when the war was done that Newt had not been a child but just over the age of majority then even though the way Theseus had spoke of him would make you think the boy was too young to even be attending wizarding school. 

"I hope my aurors are treating you well, and that you would feel comfortable coming to me about it if they or anyone else at MACUSA were not to be." Percival said, already mentally running though his list of aurors and separating the ones who he suspected could do something as terrible as mistreat the magizoologist, intending to corner each and every one of them first thing tomorrow. Or perhaps after the meeting Madame President would hold to announce the arrest of the poachers. If she heard Percival had missed it to as she would call it "bully his aurors" she would most likely hex him into taking sick leave.

Newt stared at Percival for a moment, head tilted to the side as he seemed to do whenever confused. The characteristic so like a krup even though Percival thought Newt rather more resembled a kneazle kitten. A little fluffy ginger one with gigantic green eyes. 

A moment later he let out a little sound of realization making Percival shift anxiously in his chair when Newt chose to take a long drink instead of immediately share what conclusion he had arrived to after staring at Percival in that invasive way. 

"You know Theseus." Newt said after a long moment in which the Director had nearly ripped his nails into the leather of the armchair he sat on at the horrific thought of Newt having guessed his interest in him.

"We met during the war, served together near the end of it." Percival said, trying to hide his relief at the case not having been what he had dreaded. 

"I'm embarrassed, I'd like to formally apologize for how much he must have bored you talking about me. I should probably send out apology letters to everyone who has had to associate with Theseus long enough to get past the Ministry of Magic's war hero image down to the overbearing mother hen he is." Percival chuckled at that, a deep warm throaty laugh that had Newt glancing up from the amber liquid in his cup with a look in his eyes the Director missed entirely having been glancing down as he tended to do when he truly laughed. 

"He is definitely that, but it made me respect him. Young aurors often put up these cold fronts, acting as though nothing gets through to them, as though they're mindless soldiers and not just employees of MACUSA. Your brother never did that, he was honest. He also used you as a way to escape the terrible things going on around us, I envied him for that." 

"Theseus loves too deeply." Newt muttered into his cup, looking solemn again. 

"I think that's a problem both of you Scamander brothers have. Had you not written that the infants you were talking about in your book were occamies I would have thought the author was writing about his own children." Percival said making Newt let out a laugh before he could contain himself. A loud laugh, almost bark-like in quality, something that would resonate in a room and keep it ringing with cheer for days afterwards. Percival had seen Newt laugh with others in MACUSA, the Goldstein sisters mostly, but it was always a quiet breathy thing, nothing as unabashed and frankly as lovely as this. The sound had Newt's cheeks turning an endearing red, but a smile stayed on those lips despite the obvious embarrassment. Percival allowed himself to smile into his cup at that, at having a moment of Newt to cherish as his own.

"I'm guessing Theseus had a bit too much to drink one night and went on a long rant about all the 'British bastards who dare to treat his baby brother badly'." Newt said doing a spot-on impression of an angry and slightly drunk Theseus. 

"I won't lie and say that didn't happen, he also used some words when addressing what I'm guessing were classmates of yours you wouldn't expect a war hero to use when speaking of children." 

"As far as Theseus was concerned they weren't children but demons. Nearly hexed far too many of them, and actually did hex the few stupid enough to accompany their parents to our home while Theseus was visiting. Safe to say those ones would definitely never bully anyone again." Newt said, a devious little half-smile playing at the right corner of his mouth as he glanced up from beneath those thick lashes to share a look with Percival. It was an attractive look on him to say the least.

"He also wrote me as soon as he heard I had the job and told me to go to you if anyone gave me trouble in America, or if I had caused any trouble in America that he couldn't get here fast enough to get me out of." Newt admitted, the half-smile turning into a full blown smirk that had Percival shifting uncomfortably in his chair, fingers fumbling with his collar, skin feeling heated all of a sudden. He wondered briefly if the elves had just redone the heating charms. He knew they redid them every Monday, but a wizard could at least allow himself a bit of innocent ignorance to save face. 

"He was right to say so, my doors are always open for you Mr.Scamander. Regardless of whether you are in trouble, or are the trouble." Newt giggled charmingly at that and it made pride swell in Percival's chest to have gotten another one of these unrestrained reactions from Newt. 

"Call me Newt. I prefer it." The magizoologist said, making the Director's eyes widen and his grip slacken on the cup he was holding. Luckily they were charmed to prevent spills and the cup righted itself before the liquid could slosh onto his pants and embarrass him further. 

"Then you must call me Percival." The Director responded, hoping fervently that his ears were not as red as they felt to be. Percival hadn't blushed this much since first year in Ilvermony when a second year girl had declared before the entire school that she would court and marry the young Graves wizard. Of course Madame President had later admitted it was merely a strategy to form connections within the high ranks of MACUSA aurors, but as it had turned out she had not needed the connections to rise through the ranks. 

"Tell me Percival" Newt started, breaking off to scoot much closer to the Director. So close that their knees were touching, making Percival's heart feel as though it really would pump out of his chest as the heat from Newt's skin seeped through their slacks and into his own skin. He briefly wondered whether St Ingus would be able to put his heart back in its rightful place without him having to miss the meeting tomorrow morning as he gazed into the swirling depths of those green eyes. This close he could see they had specks of a green so light it appeared to be silver, and he concluded that was what must give them that ridiculous shine. 

Newt leaned even closer, so close Percival could smell not only the firewhisky on his breath but the sweet smell of his skin, like morning dew, and Percival had to dig his fingers into his thighs to ensure he didn't reach out and touch. Newt had leaned so close now Percival could clearly make out each and every freckle on his skin despite the flush of the alcohol. Could feel the breath he let out with every exhale very faintly against his face. So close that Percival was terrified to breathe, afraid the skittish magizoologist would be scared off. Afraid that if he breathed too deeply and manged to identify what fruit exactly the smell of the shampoo that lingered in that curly red hair was, he would be unable to stop himself from pulling the magizoologist onto his lap. 

"What is your favourite magical creature?" Newt whispered, making Percival blink in bewilderment as the words registered. All the feelings stirring in his chest and pooling in his core pausing as though too surprised. One moment Percival was looking into the magizoologist's eyes and the next he was looking down at the back of his curly haired head as Newt faceplanted right into Percival's lap. Mumbling something about a wand poking him that had Percival guiltily aware of his wand which was securely tucked into his sleeve, before going completely still.


End file.
